Page 33 of The Now in Forever
I nod, taking another sip of my beer. This time it’s not as biting, a little more refreshing. “This is true. No bays, no ocean.”
There’s a long pause, and then he says, “I think I’ll always live next to the sea.”
“Okay, Ahab.”
He smiles but gazes out at the water. “Har, har. But honestly, I don’t think I could live far from the water. It’s so soothing, you know? I get some of my best ideas just staring out at the waves.”
We both stare out at them, the rhythmic swells and contractions hypnotizing in its pattern. Ed reaches over on the blanket and finds my hand, holding it in his. His hand is warmer than the air around us. With the sun dipping below the horizon, and the breeze of the water, it’s gotten a little cooler.
Ed tears his eyes away from the view, turning to face me. He lies on the blanket, propping himself up on his elbow but still holding my hand lightly, tickling my fingers and palm. “Tell me more about this book club.”
I sigh. “Not much to tell. It’s with my two best friends, Robin and Anh.”
Ed nods. “And you’ve known each other since you were kids?”
“Yeah. I visit every summer, so I get to see them then. And we read our books, hang out.”
“It must be lonely having your best friends live a couple states away.”
I start in on my usual deflection. “I have other friends.” There’s a whole rehearsed speech that comes after this about how it’s good for us. We get to be our own people, and we have things to talk about when we come back together. But it’s not the truth. Not really. I lie down, matching Ed’s posture, propping my head up on my elbow but still fiddling with his fingers with my other hand, tracing the letters on his knuckles.
“It is lonely. Anh and Robin are together all year long. They share classes, they went to prom as a double date, and they pop over on Christmas to say hi. Sometimes I feel like a third wheel. They’re a grade ahead of me too. Anh’s birthday is in April, and Robin’s is in July. Mine’s in October. They both started high school before me. They both graduated before me.”
Ed nods, showing that he’s listening, but he doesn’t try to fill any pauses in my confession.
“Sometimes I worry that if I lived here full-time, we wouldn’t be friends. Like the novelty of me would wear off.”
Ed frowns. “I know that I have only known you—” he looks at his watch, a large leather band with a cracked glass face “—not even twelve hours, but you are not a novelty. I don’t think anyone would see you that way, ever.”
His words warm my chest, a heat that slowly spreads through my body. “I bet you say that to all the girls.”
He smiles, a crooked mischievous smile that I want to kiss off his face, but I’m not bold enough to make that move yet.
Someone runs over, popping our bubble and kicking sand onto the blanket. I sit up, and so does Ed. The guy offers a joint to Ed. “Nah.” He turns to me. “Want some?”
“No, thanks.”
“Cool, cool.” The guy leaves as fast as he came, sand flying all around him.
“You could’ve…” I motion to the people smoking. “I don’t mind.”
He slices his hand through the air like an umpire signaling you’reout. “Nope. Every time I smoke, I think I’m dying, and the only thing that helps is watching episode after episode ofSpongeBob.”
I smile. “SpongeBob?”
“I find Patrick very soothing.”
The sun blazes on its last descent, lighting up the sky in deep oranges, pink rippling the clouds above as purple takes over the sky. We watch the sunset, holding hands, sitting close enough I can feel the warmth of his thigh through his tattered jeans. As soon as the last twinkle dips below the water, Ed whispers in my ear, “Let’s get out of here.”
“Where?”
Even in the dark, his eyes glimmer. “I have an idea.”
I hesitate, and he grabs my hand. “Do you trust me?”
Searching my body for the answer, my limbs feel warm and light. Even though I’ve only known him a handful of hours, something in me trusts him. I smile. “I do.”
CHAPTER 7
